


Photographs

by jairyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anisoka, F/M, Modern, Snips - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, skyguy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15303954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: Set in modern day New York, Anakin is a model who meets an up and coming photographer (Ahsoka) at his first real photoshoot. They connect in a way he never thought possible and together they fight to survive and learn to trust and love themselves.(Human Ahsoka design inspired by rosaapaints, check out her lovely art on instagram)





	1. Chapter 1

Anakin strolled into the old warehouse. On the other side of the wall he could hear his agent, Ben, arguing with the studio owner, Plo. He rolled his eyes and sat down. It was the same old thing. “Are you kidding me, Plo? You can’t do this to me! We’re old friends, that’s got to count for something!” Ben was saying in his whiny, overdramatic voice. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Ben. But this is an opportunity of a lifetime for me and my business. I just can’t pass it up!” Plo replied, begging him to understand.

“Well then, what are we supposed to do? I’m telling you, he has what it takes! He’s the next big thing in the model world. But he’ll never get his face out there, without a good portfolio. And a good portfolio requires a good photographer! You’re the best around, we need you!” His agent exclaimed.

“Look, I’ll tell you what. I recently hired an intern from the high school down the street, she’s got a good eye. I’ll have her take the pictures and I’ll photoshop them later. They’ll have the Plo Koon seal of approval before they leave.”

“A no-name? That’s suicide in this business, you know that!” It wouldn’t be long now before Ben was yelling. Anakin opened his eyes and looked around. Whatever his agent was negotiating, wasn’t going well. He hated politics, so he stayed out of it. Movement caught his eye and he stood up and headed in that direction. 

He watched as a young girl with reddish-brown, almost copper colored, skin, came out of the back room carrying a tripod in one hand and a light in the other. She was wearing a red crop top and cutoff jean shorts. She had bangles up and down her arms and around her ankles, and bare feet. There were white markings on her face that came down in a diamond shape, wove around her eyes in both directions and then a separate wing shape on her cheeks. She was too far away to tell if they were a tattoo or something she drew on with makeup. She had a nose ring and multiple piercings up and down her ears. The way they sparkled in the studio lights reminded him of constellations. But her most dramatic feature was her brightly colored blue and silvery-white hair, dyed in stripes that were not your common highlights. She was cute, in an eccentric kind of way, he smiled to himself. Ben may not think she’s worth much, but he wouldn’t mind working with her.

“Ahsoka!” Plo called from his office, coming out into the open area with Ben on his heels. The girl that Anakin had been watching looked up from her task almost bored. His smile deepened. Her name was unusual, but it fit her. He liked it. “I have to go across town and take pictures of Miss Amidala’s new fashion line. I need you to do model portfolio shots for this young man.” Plo said, acknowledging Anakin for the first time. Her eyes followed where he pointed, widened just slightly when she saw he’d been watching her, but then returned to the owner and nodded. “Ben here, will tell you what he wants. Good luck!” He said a little strained and grabbed a bag of equipment before disappearing out the double doors. “Oh and lock up when you’re done!” He shouted from outside. Anakin imagined he was now muttering to himself angrily. He resisted the urge to laugh. Ben had that effect on people.

“Now listen here, girl…” his agent said to her. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m not happy about this arrangement. You’re going to take lots of pictures of my client in all different places and styles and hopefully in the next few days, there will be a handful that are worth keeping!”

If Ahsoka was offended or bothered by what Ben was saying, she hid it well. Anakin had seen stronger people melt under his gaze. She was probably used to demanding people. That’s the kind of people you had to deal with in this business. He admired her backbone. Ben called him over to stand in the middle of the set and then began his extensive list of demands. She nodded thoughtfully then had the gall to shoo him out. He liked her already. 

“I’ll be back in a couple hours, Anakin.” Ben said to him. “We’ll go to the gym for your daily workout. Then you’ll need to go to bed early because we have a seven am appointment with the governor. He wants you to be the poster boy for his ‘fit for life’ program!” His agent gave one last glare at the girl and was gone.

He sucked in a breath when she turned to look him up and down now that they were alone, then to his surprise, she picked up an old DustBuster and vacuumed the air around the space and him. “You’re messing up my hair!” He exclaimed trying to hold his carefully styled locks in place while she went around his head sucking up who knows what.

“It looks better that way.” She spoke at last. She stopped in front of him.

“What are you doing anyways?” He asked curiously.

“Getting rid of the negative energy around you.” She said matter of factly, as if that was the most obvious answer. Then she glanced at the door, made a face and went back to setting up the light she’d been working on. He hiked an eyebrow at her and then blew air out his mouth. So she was a little crazy… 

“Sick contacts.” He said trying to break the ice. Then cringed inwardly. There were plenty of things about her he could have complimented, why’d he start with that?

She turned and looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time, “I don’t wear contacts, this is my natural color.”

“Oh, well…” he was a little flustered. “They’re a very beautiful shade of blue.”

“Thank you.” She replied politely, but unimpressed. She studied his face, he squirmed internally. He couldn’t help but notice the bronze color of her lips. She was appealing, but a little over-confident for his taste.

When she finished with the light, she turned her attention to him at last. He swallowed without thinking as she looked at him. She did circles around him and he shuffled his feet. As a model, he’d gotten used to being objectified, even sexualized, but the way her eyes scanned him, he felt as though she had X-ray vision. Like she could see right through him. Her intensity made him uncomfortable, but more than that, she didn’t speak. 

Behind her cool, calm and zero-fucks-given attitude, he could see pain in her, but she was still one of the most unreadable people he’d ever met. “How’d you get the scar?” She asked stopping in front of him finally. 

“You can see it?” He asked startled. “I thought my makeup artist did an incredible job covering it.”

“They did, but wipe it off.” She handed him a wet washcloth. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. “Models are supposed to be clean. No tats, no marks, nothing.”

She peered at him. “Do you want to be just another model, or do you want to stand out?”

“Well whatever gets my career going. I confess that’s more Ben’s department.”

“He was the one that wanted you to cover it?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said. She clicked her tongue in response. 

“What do you want?”

“I want to be an actor.” He confessed with a nervous laugh, certain she’d find his dream silly. But she didn’t laugh or even make a face. 

“Then you have to move people.” She replied, pointing to the washcloth in his hands. This might be crazy, but… he wiped the makeup off without any more questions.

While he worked on his face, she went about moving lights and designing the scene. Then she took the washcloth from him and threw it to the side. “So? You never told me how you got it.” She said studying how well he cleaned it off. 

“A cat.” He replied. “Another modeling company was going to hire me, but the boss’s cat apparently didn’t like me. I had no idea that was a deal breaker.” She traced her finger down it softly. Her touch was surprisingly gentle. He watched her while she did so. Her white markings were a tattoo after all, he couldn’t see any makeup lines. She smelled sweet, like oranges. He liked it a lot. It wasn’t overpowering, but as distinctive as the rest of her. She definitely made a strong impression. 

“Ventress?” She asked with the first show of emotion since he arrived. She brushed his hair to the side just a fraction of an inch.

“You’ve heard of her?”

“She has quite the reputation. We get a lot of their cast offs. Bad for them, good for us.” She shrugged. Then to his surprise, she moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, then moved up to his chest. She then took a pen out of one of the two buns she had in her hair and marked two places on her arms. Was she measuring him? He’d never had a photographer do anything like this before. “When was the last time you had a decent meal?” She asked. 

“I had a good breakfast!” He said defensively.

“The only one in a month?” She asked.

“Of course not!” Why was she prying? She was supposed to just take pictures, why did she need to know all this personal stuff?

As if knowing exactly what he was thinking, she commented, “to photograph someone and do them justice, you have to know them.”

“Well maybe I don’t want you to know me, I just want you to take a damn picture!” He said harshly. He was getting tired of these games. Here he was feeling naked while he knew nothing at all about her.

She stopped and looked at him. It felt almost like she was daring him to say it again. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t dare. “Take your shirt off.” She said and patted the backwards chair she’d put in the middle of a black back drop. She went around adjusting the lights. Until it was relatively dark in the studio. 

He sat on the chair, one leg on each side, with just his jeans on, facing the camera. She moved around using her fingers as a frame and then stopped suddenly in one spot and moved the camera tripod there. He clearly didn’t understand artists, because he had no idea what she was doing. Once she was in position with the camera ready, he waited for her to take it, but she didn’t. “Put your left hand on your right shoulder, your right hand on your left shoulder and rest your elbows on the back of the chair.” He did what she said, wondering why she made him take his shirt off just to cover up exactly what removing it would show. “What’s the saddest thing that’s ever happened to you?“ 

He looked up at her as though she punched him in the gut and heard the camera click. He stood up suddenly annoyed. "What are you playing at?” He demanded. “Are you enjoying this?” She looked at him blankly as though she had no idea what he was talking about. Which only served to increase his anger. 

He was just about to grab his shirt and storm out when she said quietly, “I’m sorry about your mother.” He stopped in his tracks. 

“How?” He was so shocked he couldn’t move. 

“Eyes talk, I listen.” She said. Then turned around and sat down in the chair he’d just vacated. He looked at her trying to decide if she was being serious. “I was taken from my parents as a child. Enrolled in a school for gifted children. Which as you probably know, is the politically correct term for mentally ill.” She sighed and dropped her head in her hands. “People don’t like me, people don’t understand me. And I don’t really care. But… I was tired of feeling like I was the only one that carried pain no one could see. I started going to the park and watching them, trying to draw out their pain. Seeing their pain, healed my own. I didn’t feel so alone.”

He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt sorry for her. Except that in a way, she was right; seeing someone else’s pain makes your own hurt less. And though he was still angry for how she’d gone about drawing his out, he did feel lighter sharing it with someone else. At least knowing someone else saw it.

Part of him wanted to reach out and take her hand, but before he made up his mind to do it, she stood up. “Come look,” she said and took the memory card out of the camera and popped it in the laptop. Then opened the picture to show him. His jaw dropped. He’d never paid much attention to what made a good photograph but he’d never been so rocked by one before. She’d taken a single black and white picture that showed only his bare skin. Everything else blended into the background. Your eyes snapped right to his elbows and then followed his arms up to the most intense eyes. The emotion showing was so raw that you’re instantly captivated by the depth of the person sitting there. And even though she’d invoked such deep pain in him, he almost didn’t recognize himself. “What do you think?” She asked, looking up at him expectantly. 

His mouth worked for a few moments before words came to him. “You moved me.” He said at last. She grinned at him and he sighed. She was weird, there was no question. But she was onto something. This portfolio was going to be unique. He shouldn’t have been surprised that in this picture, his scar being visible, didn’t bother him at all. Here he’d been going around ashamed of it, feeling as though it would always be a disability in his career, but in one shot, she had made it a statement of who he was as a person. Dramatically emphasizing it as part of what made him. And no matter how strange she’d gone about doing it, he knew he could trust her completely.

He dropped his shirt again and gave her permission to keep going. She didn’t talk much, but worked much the same process throughout the session. She’d position him, find the right angle and snap a single picture after invoking a certain emotion. He didn’t really notice the passage of time, because he enjoyed watching her work. She often had a pen or lens cap, or sometimes her tongue, sticking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on finding those perfect shots. The more he watched, the more fascinating she became. He found an odd comfort in the soft jingling sound her bangles made. He admired the lightness of her steps, the deliberate positioning, even the way she studied him. He was falling in love with that moment she found the perfect shot, because her blue eyes would light up and sparkle. But his favorite part was when her hands would brush his bare skin as she positioned him, leaving a trail of citrus teasing his senses. He was realizing it wasn’t just his sense of smell that was reacting. It was like he could feel her in the air around him. She radiated warmth, a kind of energy that left his skin buzzing long after the touch faded. It was like she was electric. He’d never met anyone quite like her before. He wasn’t here to fall in love… but… he just might be falling.

“Time for a break!” She exclaimed out of the blue. He hadn’t realized how tired he was just modeling. It was probably the emotional rollercoaster she’d put him on since they started. He glanced at the clock, Ben would be back in half an hour. He wished he didn’t have to leave. “There’s food in the kitchen that way,” she pointed past his nose. “And bathrooms are out the door and around the building to your right.” He felt a little like he’d been dismissed.

He pulled his shirt back on and headed towards the kitchen, but then decided he wanted a smoke before his agent returned and lectured him. He also thought it might calm the rush of feelings she’d ignited this afternoon. By far, this was the weirdest modeling session ever, but one he’d definitely never forget. He stopped a few feet away from the door and lit his cigarette. Then he wandered back behind the old warehouse and stared at the water. Across the river was Manhattan, a constant buzz of activity. This was a more run-down part of town, but from what he’d heard, Plo was a renowned photographer, so maybe he just liked the space. Space was hard to come by in New York, that was for sure. 

He absentmindedly puffed his cigarette while watching the boats go by and then he started heading back to the door. He wished he knew why Ahsoka was so appealing to him. She wasn’t his type at all. He’d always gone for girls with fairer skin and brown hair. Ones that were classy and rich. But there was something about this one, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He looked up and saw her walking towards him. He forgot about his smoke for a moment as he watched her. She was graceful. Every movement had a purpose. She seemed to have a gait as distinctive as the rest of her. She reminded him of a cat… and as he thought about it… like one stalking prey. 

In one movement, she reached up and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, took a puff of it, blew it back in his face and then dropped it on the ground and stamped it out with her bare foot. “Hey!” He said, recovering from the initial shock of what she’d just done. “I was going to finish that!” He pulled out another and stuck it in his mouth. She made a face at him, scrunching up the white markings. 

“Smoking is bad for you.” She said simply and turned to walk inside. He stared after her, eyes lingering in that direction long after she disappeared, unlit cigarette, still in his mouth. He brought his lighter up and ignited it, but then clicked it off and threw the cigarette away. What was wrong with him? For a girl of so few words, she had him wrapped around her finger already. 

He went inside not feeling much calmer. But he’d pretty much decided that would be the state of affairs when she was around. She was sitting in front of the laptop studying the pictures she’d taken. He walked over to her and put his hands on the back of the chair; looking over her at the screen. Before he could stop himself, he rested his chin on the top of her head and inhaled. Were they close enough to do that already? She seemed to know every in and out of him, but she was a mystery. If she didn’t like him that close, she didn’t say anything. He was surprised by the softness of her hair. He’d expected it to be rougher and more wiry since she had darker skin. He ran his fingers through the back of it, loving the silky feel and the way it would spring back up in curls when he let go. 

“What are you?” He asked, feeling like an idiot. There was nothing normal about her, but that was a dumb way to ask for more information.

“I don’t know.” She said, and at first, he felt as though she was trying to end that line of questioning. But then he remembered what she’d said earlier about being taken from her parents. So how would she know? He had endless questions, but he stood up straight and let go of her when he heard the door to the studio open. He spun around to see his agent walk inside. 

“I guess we’re done today,” he whispered.

“Yep,” was all she said. She hadn’t even looked up. 

“Please tell me there might be a shot or two we can use?” Ben said joining them at the computer. Ahsoka snapped the laptop shut so he couldn’t see the pictures. 

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Anakin replied stepping between them. 

“I hope so.” Ben said turning away, mumbling something to himself about how stressful all of this was for him. Anakin just rolled his eyes and glanced at Ahsoka. She’d resumed her deadpan attitude as she stared at his agent’s back. He wasn’t sure why he had the strong impression that if Ben got too close to her, she’d bite. But he decided not to test his theory and went about pushing him out the door. He glanced over his shoulder at her and saw that she was standing with one hand up in a wave. She suddenly looked so sad though; as though she’d actually miss him. The truth was, he’d miss her too, even if he knew he’d see her again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

“Master Skywalker!” Plo said as Anakin entered the studio the following day. “It’s good to see you again. I apologize for yesterday, it all came up so fast and I had to cancel a bunch of appointments and…” he kept going, but Anakin was only vaguely paying attention. He reached out to shake his hand. 

Ahsoka had come out of the back room when Plo had announced him and his eyes had snapped to her. Today she was wearing a long flowing skirt with a vibrant pattern across it. A small, spaghetti strap white blouse that cinched up in the front. Her wild hair was twisted back in multiple braids, and the sight of her had made him catch his breath. She smiled shyly at him from across the room and Anakin had completely lost track of what Plo had been saying. 

She slowly made her way to where they were standing and when the studio owner noticed she was there, he put his hands on her shoulders like a father might a child. “As I was saying,” he went on, it took a lot of force to focus on the veteran photographer now that she was standing so close to him again. “I’m going to be out of town for a week so you’ll be having another session with Ahsoka, here. I hope that’s okay.” He patted her affectionately on the shoulder. She looked up at Anakin with big blue eyes, as if she was afraid he’d reject her or refuse to work with her again.

He smiled at her, “well, we did just fine yesterday. I’m sure we’ll survive again.” He watched as a deep smile spread across her face. 

“Very good.” Plo said, relieved. “You know, I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t think she had talent. I feel quite comfortable leaving you in her care.” She looked up at him appreciatively. Anakin was glad to see that he seemed to recognize she had a gift, though he strongly suspected Plo didn’t know the depth of it. At least she wasn’t an underappreciated assistant around the studio. “Well, I’ll get out of your way. Alright Ahsoka, you know the drill. See you in a week.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek and then headed out the door. They were alone again.

For a few moments, they just stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Then she reached out a jewelry laden arm and took his hand. “Follow me!” She said with a sing-song voice. He didn’t have much choice in the matter, she had quite a grip. She led him to the kitchen and picked up a small bag up and handed it to him. She then jumped up so she was sitting on the counter in front of him. “I got you a donut!” She exclaimed happily. “It took a long time though. The first one I saw had too many sprinkles, the second one had too much frosting. I didn’t think you’d like the third one. One was a weird shape, another had a funny smell. But then I found the perfect one. I just knew you’d be a maple bar fan!” He looked at her as she grinned at him so sweetly. His lip trembled as he realized the amount of effort she went to just to get him a donut. She was looking so proud of herself, waiting for him to eat it and enjoy it like she really believed he would. 

He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he took a bite. Making sure to sound like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Then he swallowed, hoping that would be enough, but no… she was watching him like a hawk. She wanted to be sure he savored every bite. It was a bit unnerving to be watched like that while he ate. Finally, he broke it in half and gave her part of it. That distracted her a bit while he struggled to finish the piece he had.

When he’d finally swallowed the last bite, she asked him if it was good. He nodded but then excused himself to go to the restroom. He tried to look like nothing was wrong all the way out the door, but then he ran around the building to the restroom and threw it up in the toilet. He took longer than normal to recover from an episode, because he felt so guilty. After washing out his mouth and cleaning off his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. Pinching his sides, feeling so fat. He was going to have to make some excuse to her so she wouldn’t buy him more food. 

He pulled himself together and walked outside right into her. She looked up at him with concern. “Are you allergic?” She asked worriedly. “I knew I should have gotten the gluten free kind!” His heart sunk. How could he explain to her that she’d done nothing wrong? She was pacing now, and muttering to herself like she was trying to solve a complex equation.

“Ahsoka.” He said softly, but she didn’t seem to hear him. “Ahsoka!” He said louder, reaching out to take her shoulders. She started as if she’d momentarily forgotten he was there. Her bright blue eyes were wide. He let go of her, and she relaxed slightly. “I’m not allergic. The donut was delicious!”

“Then why did you…” she trailed off after glancing at the bathroom door behind him. “You’re bulimic?” How did she keep doing that? 

“No, of course not.” He shuffled his feet. “It’s just hard for me to keep food down.” He had a hard time avoiding her eyes. To his surprise she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He’d tensed at first, because it hadn’t been the reaction he’d expected. Then he reached around and hugged her back. His fingers played with the braids in her hair, one was tightly wound, the others were bigger and looser. She didn’t let go for a long time. He nuzzled the side of her face. She felt good in his arms. And at one point, he could’ve sworn she was trying to pull out his pain and take it on herself. It reminded him of what she’d said yesterday about drawing out people’s pain. That’s not what he thought she’d meant. 

Only when she looked up at him did he realize she’d been crying. Why was she so upset about his problem? “If a photographer is worth anything, a model would never need to change to look good.” She whispered. Even though she’d spoken softly, the words hit him so hard she might as well have punched him. Now tears were rolling down his cheek. He hated being vulnerable. He hated showing emotions! But somehow this wild girl was drawing it out of him in many different ways. Some to capture on film, some to save. 

They walked back inside arm in arm. They didn’t really talk much as they got back into the groove for the modeling session. But she did explain to him that today he was going to talk with his body not his eyes. He wasn’t exactly sure what that would entail, but at this point, he knew better than to question her. He’d never been afraid to show off his body before, but now that she knew one of his deepest secrets, he found himself really nervous. Especially now that she was going to focus on the very thing he was never satisfied with; the way he looked. 

“How old are you, anyways?” He asked as he watched her move lights and cameras around. 

“Eighteen.” She said simply. 

“You seem older than that. You know so much about people.” He said.

She stopped for a moment and looked at him. “I watch. I don’t talk well. So, I learn through observation." 

"You talk just fine to me.” He said with a shrug.

“I like you.” She replied and went back to her task. He felt a little fuzzy as he thought about what she said. He’d been kind of noticing her reactions to different people when they came in the room. It was as if certain behaviors people displayed drew out different parts of her personality. She’d said she was taken to a school for being mentally ill, but he didn’t see anything wrong with her. She was eccentric, had a unique style and an occasional oddball reaction to stuff, but that’s just how people were. She’d seemed a little crazy when they first started, but now that he thought about it, that was only because he’d never met someone so unique. 

New York was the fashion capital of the United States. Everyone was trying to outdo each other and trying to race to become the next big thing. So, designers would establish a trademark “look” so-to-speak, and that would become their signature style. Usually getting more and more ridiculous from there. To the point that being unique was not really unique anymore. But Ahsoka, though having her own distinctive style, wasn’t like those people. It wasn’t about the way she looked. Her artsy appearance was just an outward expression of the colorful world in her head. All of it was just part of her. It wasn’t to impress people, or to capture attention. It was as if she was in tune with her own soul and made her appearance match it. Though she’d looked amazing both days he’d known her, he felt that she put little thought into her look, she just did whatever struck her fancy. 

In a world of fake people trying to sell themselves to the people, she was refreshing. There was nothing misleading or manipulative about her looks or behavior, she just was who she was. And he liked her for that. And bummed that others couldn’t. 

“So are you and mister Plo a…” he trailed off. He hoped she’d figure out what he was implying because it was too weird to say it out loud. Plo had been very affectionate to her, which on the one hand he’d appreciated but he also wasn’t sure why he would kiss his employee even if it was just on the cheek.

She looked up at him. “He’s like a father to me.” She replied simply. He blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Are you jealous?” She asked with a mischievous look.

“What? No…” he tried to sound convincing. “I just wondered how you two… got to know each other, I guess.”

“Mister Plo does a lot of charity work, often coming to my school and teaching kids photography. I showed him some of my pictures and when I was old enough, he hired me. He said I had a gift. I told him, well yeah, that’s how I ended up at a school for gifted children. I remember he smiled, but it was a sad smile. I don’t know why he was so sad.”

Anakin knew why, he felt the pain in his chest, but did his best not to show it. He felt sorry for her. He missed his mother daily, but he could never imagine her not wanting him. To send your child away to a school where they learn they’re not the same as the rest of the kids, and not in a good way either… he couldn’t even imagine. Though Ahsoka had made it sound just now that she didn’t understand, he was certain she did. She knew exactly what situation she’d been thrown into. He was grateful someone at least had recognized her potential and given her a chance. Social skills could be learned, but purpose… purpose had to be supported and nurtured.

For the better part of the afternoon, Ahsoka went about positioning him and taking pictures. He didn’t understand the vision she had, but she was quite particular. Often moving one of his arms or angling him mere fractions. Sometimes she’d have him switch out outfits, mumbling to herself that they were too ‘expected’ and there was nothing interesting about them. But that she could make do. He liked watching her work, though he had so many questions for her, the silence was comfortable. He felt a certain kind of intimacy with her that they didn’t need to speak. He thought about how she’d said she would be having him 'talk with his body’ today.

“So, what messages are you having my body say?” He asked finally. 

“Nothing it doesn’t already.” She answered vaguely. That made him nervous. 

After a couple more shots, she looked up at the clock. It was well past six, which was when the studio technically closed for the day. He wondered if she was going to call it quits. He didn’t have anywhere to be tonight. Ben had meetings all day so he’d driven here himself. He enjoyed her company though and wanted to invite her out, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be comfortable with that.

“I need to lock up.” She said. He didn’t hide his disappointment quick enough, “but we can keep going, if you want.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

She looked a little shy for a moment and then went around locking the doors and closing curtains. He sat down on a couch in a nearby set and thought about their time together. He felt like he didn’t know much about her, and yet, he was totally comfortable with her. He’d bared more of his soul to her in the last two days, then he ever had before, to anyone. He knew the pictures would be worth it, but at the same time, they scared him. What was she going to tell the world about him through them?

“I know you don’t eat much,” came her voice from the kitchen, “but I have a tuna sandwich if you’re hungry?” He got up and made his way towards her. 

“That sounds good.” He replied. She smiled and put the sandwich on a plate, flipping off the top piece of bread and handing him a spoon. He couldn’t help but wonder if she knew other people that struggled with bulimia. She poured him a glass of water and then grabbed her own sandwich and sat down across from him at the table.

He watched her while he nibbled at his sandwich. It tasted surprisingly good. It was hard for him to enjoy food much anymore; the taste was always acidic or chalky to him. He knew that was because he’d throw a lot of it back up, but it only perpetuated the problem. If it didn’t taste good, it was harder to keep down. 

“I trust your vision and all,” he started, “but I admit I can’t see exactly what you’re doing or how it works.”

“I’m not sure how to explain it,” she said. “I make observations and they help me to know which way to pose someone to send a certain message. It’s almost as if the body speaks to me.” She looked embarrassed suddenly, “I know that sounds crazy.”

“No it doesn’t,” he said calmly, reaching out and taking her hand across the table. “Please, continue.” He nodded encouragingly at her. She looked a little dumbstruck by his touch but didn’t pull away.

She glanced around nervously at first, but then she did go on, “when I meet people, I don’t always understand what they’re saying. It’s not easy for me to take verbal clues; like tone of voice. But if I watch their body movements; their gestures, posture, the way they turn or move or point… I understand better then. It makes people uncomfortable though, to find me staring. They don’t get that I need those visual clues. I can’t talk on the phone.” She trembled suddenly. “Everyone sounds mean on the phone." 

He found himself rubbing his thumb in little circles on the back of her hand. It was hard for him to imagine what that must be like. How people take so for granted verbal communication; the audacity to assume that people of any culture or ethnicity would automatically know just what anything they say means. To look at someone like Ahsoka, who regardless of her background, struggles to communicate in conventional ways and to know that people dismiss her simply because she communicates differently… well it bothered him to say the least. He’d thought she was strange at first, because he hadn’t understood. But at least he’d wanted to. 

They finished eating and went back to the set. "Have you ever considered modeling?” He asked her. 

“I like being behind the camera.” She said quietly. He understood what she was really saying.

“I want to take pictures of you.” He persisted though, trying to push her past her comfort zone.

“Why?” She looked fearful, but he had to keep going. After everything she’d put him through, he wanted to look at her the way she’d been looking at him.

“Because to me, you’re a work of art.” He said huskily. She looked genuinely surprised, but then she smiled and looked down shyly. “Give me a chance behind the camera, we can delete them later if you want." 

She hesitated but finally agreed. He was certain no picture would do her justice, but he wanted to try. She showed him a few tricks to the camera and then stood nervously in the middle of the set. He could read her discomfort like a book. He snapped a couple shots, but she couldn’t relax. He would have to try a different approach. 

For him, she’d invoked emotions, but he was afraid he’d push her too far if he tried that. "Wait here.” He said and went scouring around the studio. After searching for a few minutes, he found the perfect thing. She looked nervous when he returned. He set up a couple of fans around the set and turned them on. She laughed as the air blew her hair into her face. “Turn around,” he said, directing her to turn her back to the camera. He positioned himself with the camera near one of the fans. “Okay, on the count of three, spin around.” She shrugged her shoulders. “One… two… three!" 

As soon as she started spinning, he threw a handful of multicolored glitter in front of the fan and snapped a bunch of pictures. The way her face had alighted in genuine surprise and joy, until she melted into giggles dancing around under the stream of color, had made his heart feel like it would burst. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. She stared at him wild-eyed. He grinned at her. She ran to the side and turned on a stereo player with an old record and then pulled him away from the camera to dance with her to the music.

When the record finally stopped, they collapsed onto the ground laughing and breathing heavy while staring at the ceiling. 

"Thank you.” She said turning to kiss him on the cheek. 

“You’re welcome.” He replied sincerely. They fell silent again, but continued to lay there.

“Have you ever considered doing nude photography?” She whispered after a while. He turned to look at her profile in the dim lighting. She was still looking up at the ceiling, but he could make out a soft smile on her lips. The white markings on her face, seemed to glow a little. 

“I think I always knew I’d have to someday, but I never gave it much thought.” He answered finally.

“I could do it for you.” She whispered again. “If you trust me.”

Of course he trusted her. “Okay.” He said finally. 

“You know,” she said still not looking at him. “Even though you were afraid earlier, I was helping you. You want to become an actor, right? Well acting is more than reciting lines. Your body has to act too.” He was touched that she even remembered his offhanded dream. He rolled to the side, looking her up and down.

“How does my body act around you?” He breathed. He saw her blush even in the darkened room. 

“Nicely.” She said. It wasn’t exactly what he hoped to hear, but he realized the impact of what she meant.


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re ashamed of your body.” She breathed as she helped him remove his shirt. He swallowed hard, trying not to seem too eager or nervous. Was it his imagination or were her hands lingering on his skin longer than before? She moved around him, tracing the lightest touch across him, sending chills down his spine. “You work hard to make it look a certain way.” Her voice was sultry. “But you’re never satisfied by the results.” She unbuttoned his pants. But before she went further, she disappeared into the back room, leaving him hanging there, trying not to pant.

She came back out a moment later with a long piece of black fabric. “What’s that for?” He asked.

“I’m going to teach you a new way to see.” She said, then took the fabric she was holding and flattened it across his eyes, tying it behind him as a blindfold. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he was resisting the urge, for now. She touched a finger to his lips. Running it down his throat and then from his chest to the waist of his jeans. “Are you ready?” She asked. He could only nod.

He felt her move away from him, even through the blindfold could tell she was adjusting lights again. “Okay.” She said quietly. He removed his pants and threw them to the side. He stood there awkwardly, feeling more uncomfortable blindfolded, but then he heard soft music start playing and he relaxed a little. “Where am I?” She asked. He turned towards the sound of her voice. “Use your senses, not your hands.” He dropped them back to his sides.

At first he didn’t understand, but then as he took a deep breath, he swore he could ‘see’ her in the air to his right. He became aware of her heartbeat as if it was amplified in his ears. He smelled the sweet citrus scent as it drifted past his nose. He felt the electricity that she gave off, even though she wasn’t touching him. How had she shifted his perspective? He heard the camera click as he moved in response to these newly found senses. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or even that he was posing. But she must have seen something worth taking a picture of.

He felt her move to another position and instinctively turned his body to follow her. Why was he suddenly sure she was smiling?

“When you stop thinking,” she whispered, “you can see what’s real.” He reached out and caught her hand where he knew it would be. He let himself melt into the softness of her skin, as he pulled her close to him. She rested her face on his chest.

“But I want to see you.” He said huskily. She stopped his hand from removing the blindfold.

“Then look with your soul.” He touched the side of her face and she leaned into his hand. Her hands slid down his torso. He couldn’t resist his arousal this time. She took the hand that was on her face, lifted it above her head and spun around under his arm as if they were still dancing. He felt the lights change in the room, heard another camera click as he reached out for her again. His head followed the soft jingling sound of her bangles as he imagined her twirling around the room. He smiled at the thought. He didn’t have to be looking at her to know she was beautiful or to see her grace. Even with his eyes closed she was like a beacon of light and a burst of color.

She was in his arms again. He felt her exposed skin as she moved his arm around her back. She faced the opposite direction as him; her arm rested across his abdomen. He turned his face towards her, knowing with certainty, she was looking up at him too. He felt the camera flash.

Then he felt her hands on his face, pushing the blindfold up and tossing it to the side. He was mesmerized by the look in her eyes. They glittered as if made of millions of stars. He caught his breath. She smiled up at him, giving her permission.

He brushed the strand of hair to the side, lips meeting hers. They were even softer than he expected as he tasted her. She responded easily and they fell into each other like they were a matching pair. He ran his fingers through her hair, messing up her braids, but she didn’t seem to mind. He slid his hands down to her shoulders, then up her arms as she lifted them around his neck. He pulled her closer as he hungrily went deeper; maximizing the amount of her skin pressed against his own.

He couldn’t get enough of the way she felt in his arms and against his lips. He wanted to explore every inch of her, but he also didn’t want to scare her with his intensity. The lamps she’d set up cast an occasional green and then blue color across the set. He brought his lips down to her neck, and kissed along her collarbone. She dug into his back as they found her breasts. She threw her head back and laughed. Every so often he’d hear the distinctive click of the camera, but he was too lost in her to care.

He let his hands slide down to her butt, squeezing it, while she did her own explorations. As he moved lower, she moved her hands into his hair, rubbing her fingers through it. He loved the way she felt. Every part of her was unique and perfect.

She laid back against the cloth underneath them and he moved over top her. He noticed the way the light would make the glitter from earlier sparkle. There was a lot of it in her hair and all over her skin. Probably all over him as well. It made her look like a diamond as the light played off the tiny pieces. Everything about her presence was magical as he breathed her in.

She spread her legs and let him in, trembling and arching into his tongue and movements. He saw her bite her bottom lip, sighing happily. He kept going, enjoying her moans as she shuddered in pleasure. He kissed her thighs and up around her navel, that was pierced too. Then trailed his kisses back up to her breasts and her neck and her lips. He pulled back to stare at her longingly.

“Are you sure?” He breathed, watching her eyes. He didn’t want to coerce her into anything she wasn’t certain about. Though she’d been responding happily to his touches, he felt a little like he was taking advantage of her. She touched the side of his face, moving her fingers up to brush his matted hair to the side. Her touch sent electricity through him, if she didn’t answer soon, he might not be able to stop himself. She studied his eyes, a soft smile on her lips.

After what seemed like an agonizingly long time, she finally responded, “I trust you.” That was all it took. He moved into her, slowly at first, being careful not to hurt her. She tipped her head back, and arched her back. “Mmmm…” she moaned as he pushed harder, she relaxed into him as he opened her up. Her hands danced across his shoulders as her eyes closed in pleasure. “Aahh!” She cried when he went deeper. Grabbing him around the waist and molding herself to his body. He dropped to his elbows, licking her skin as he thrust into her over and over again. Groaning in response to her own touches.

Every noise became part of their soundtrack and he’d never before been so moved by a song. He let every sense add to the music, wanting to savor every bar. She felt so good in his arms and against his skin, he knew she’d always be part of his soul. Would he be as unforgettable as her?

He felt her release and he pulled out following her shortly. He was breathing raggedly as he gazed down at her dreamy expression. He was exhausted and spent, but he wanted to memorize every detail before he collapsed to the side, resting his arm across her chest. She pulled it up so it sat over her heart. He smiled, laying there next to her. Breathing her in like she was his oxygen. There was nowhere he’d rather be right then. Her arm that he was resting on moved to play with his hair. Stroking it softly, he loved every touch. He felt her turn her head and kiss his forehead. Her fingers moved to his back, drawing patterns lightly on his skin.

“Hey Skyguy,” she whispered.

“Hmmm?” Was all he managed as a reply.

“Want to go stargazing?” She asked.

“I’m already gazing at the brightest one.” He murmured. She giggled. He loved the sound of her laughter.

“I’ll try not to outshine them! Come on!”

Too late. He thought to himself. Sighing, he rolled to the side so she could get up. He couldn’t help but watch her as she got dressed. He wasn’t in a hurry to move. She shut down all the lights and turned off the camera.

“I’ll meet you outside!” She exclaimed, running out the door. He reluctantly got to his feet and pulled his clothes back on. They’d made quite a mess. Maybe he’d come help her clean it up in the morning.

He grabbed his wallet and his keys and met her outside. She locked the door behind him. He could still see glitter in her hair, no doubt he was covered in it too. He opened the door to his car for her, then they drove for a while out of town, pulling off into a field away from the city lights. It was one of his favorite places to go when he was missing his mother. It seemed only fitting to share it with her. They both climbed onto the hood of the car and watched the stars while holding hands.


	4. Chapter 4

Anakin arrived at the studio first thing in the morning. Even though Mister Plo was supposed to be out of town for a week, he didn’t want Ahsoka to get in trouble for the mess they’d made the night before, in the off chance that the studio owner returned early. But when he walked inside, everything was back in their respective places. Apparently, she’d cleaned before he got there. 

His eyes snapped to the laptop on a desk near the door. There was an image up on it, he had to move closer to get a good look. His jaw dropped when he saw it. It was another black and white photograph, but it was of the two of them. Her back was to the camera, he was facing it. They were both completely naked, except for he was wearing the black blindfold and she was wearing a white one. His arm was across her back, hers across his stomach and they were looking at each other. Well, their faces were pointed at each other anyways. But even with the blindfolds, you could swear they were really lost in each other’s eyes. Her talent was pure magic. Somehow, she had perfectly, without any rehearsal, or any certainty of how he’d respond, captured a perfect yin-yang. Her dark skin with a light background, his light skin with a dark background. 

The picture left him breathless. It was the kind you’d make a huge print of to hang on a wall as expensive art. Not at all what you’d expect in a no-name model’s portfolio. She truly had a gift. 

“Good morning, Skyguy.” She said, coming out of the kitchen holding a blue mug with gold sparkles. Today she wore a plunge front burgundy romper with white pompoms around the hems and an oversized chunky grey sweater that was longer than the shorts. She had her hair braided and wrapped back in a big, loose ponytail and she wore a tiara of silver, gold and bronze feathers and little circular gems. In her ears were long colorful feather earrings that brushed along her shoulders and gladiator sandals that laced up to her knees.

“Good morning!” He replied with a smile. She sure knew how to light up a room. And he didn’t just mean on the set. He wasn’t sure where his nickname came from, but he loved the way it sounded when it left her lips. He’d have to think of one for her. 

“Do you like the picture?” She asked. Like it? He loved it. It was incredible. 

“It’s unbelievable.” He said, reaching for her. She let him take her in his arms. 

“You can use it for your portfolio.” She said softly. He knew instinctively how hard of a decision that must have been for her. After how nervous she’d been in front of the camera fully clothed, to give permission to show off one in which she wasn’t? 

“Are you sure?” He asked, kissing her on the forehead. She scrunched it up and buried her face in his neck. As much as he loved it, he almost didn’t want to share it with the world. It was such an intimate moment caught on film. Suddenly he remembered that there were more. 

“Don’t worry,” she said, handing him a flash drive. “I deleted the others off the computer and the memory card. But I thought you might want them.” 

“Don’t you?” He asked, worriedly.

“I made myself a copy too!” She held up another flash drive and then put it back in her pocket. He squeezed her tightly to him. “Yes, I’m sure.” She answered his question from a few moments before. 

“Do you want anything to eat before we go?”

“Go?” He repeated blankly. Had they made plans the night before and he didn’t remember?

“Yeah, I’m going to take you shopping. And I thought we could take some photos around town. Your portfolio needs a variety.” She let go and sipped her tea and then picked up a camera bag and set it on the desk. “I’m ready when you are!”

“Ben dropped me off this morning. I don’t have my truck.”

“That’s okay. We can take the subway!” She hid it well, but he knew her better now. Her voice had cracked with nervousness, just a little. But he admired her courage anyways. He took her hand and rubbed it gently and she looked up at him with her big blue eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. One with a promise that she’d be safe. That he’d be right beside her. A grateful look flickered across her features. He’d never been much of a talker, mainly because when Ben was around, he rarely got a word in edgewise. But since he met Ahsoka, he felt as though they communicated constantly; through looks, through touch, through the air, and yes, occasionally words. It made him feel like they shared a private world, one in which no one else could eavesdrop into or take away. A private escape, a paradise, just for them. And he liked it that way.

“Lead on!” He said, smiling at her. She giggled and ran back to the kitchen to put her cup away. Then she came back, shut the laptop and threw the camera strap over her shoulder. Then she locked the studio door behind them. They walked hand in hand down the street. She’d occasionally squeeze tighter to him when they passed other people, but otherwise she happily pointed things out along the way. He loved seeing the city through her eyes.

When they made it to the subway entrance she stopped. He could feel her tense beside him. There was a vibration of fear in the air around her. He put his hands on her shoulder to get her to look up at him instead of down the steps. He had to move in front of her a couple times until he had her full attention. “I’m right here.” He whispered. She blinked at him a few times like she’d forgotten he was with her and then she hesitantly nodded. She clung tight to him as he started down the stairs. At the first landing, he took the camera bag from her so he could wrap her closer to him. That seemed to help some as they made their way to the bottom. 

He felt her tremble as they got in line to go through the ticket booth. He kept her as close to him as he could, constantly reassuring her with touches. Ones that didn’t just say it was okay, but also to remind her how brave she was. She panicked a little when they had to go through the ticket bar single file. But he pulled her back into his arms as soon as they were through. He could feel her breathing heavy, freezing up. He kissed her on the top of the head and let her hide in his embrace for a few minutes until her breathing calmed down. She looked up at him full of fear in her blue eyes, he could see her questioning what they’d been thinking to do this.

He pulled out his earbuds from his pocket, plugged them into his phone, turned on his music and handed them to her. She put them in her ears, visibly calming considerably. Noise was a big part of her anxiety then. He had somehow known early on that she didn’t like crowds. New York was a bad city to be in when that’s a fear of yours. But he was starting to realize this went beyond introversion. There was something else going on. He thought of his cat whenever loud people were in his apartment. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if she got overstimulated. It would explain her instinct to run and hide in crowded areas. There was lots of noise, and color and too many things to see. It could be hard to find one thing to focus on that kept you calm. 

He was going to be that for her. He knew the music wouldn’t drown out all the sound, but it would help. When the train doors opened, he pushed her forward onto the train, making sure to keep a grip on her shoulders so she knew he was right there with her. He watched her fold herself every which way to avoid touching people as they passed by, but if she did brush one, she’d cringe and jump back into him. He guided her through the crowd, repeatedly squeezing her to remind her she wasn’t alone. He found two seats that were empty and sat down. She practically leapt onto his lap, curling up into him as tight as she possibly could. Burying her face in his neck. He wrapped his arms protectively around her and glared at anyone that looked at the empty seat next to him thinking it was available. He caught several people staring and whispering amongst themselves and it took every ounce of willpower to ignore them and not pick a fight. They had no right to judge her. Right now, he thought she was the bravest person in the room. Whatever it was she was fighting to overcome right now, didn’t matter. Because she was fighting it. And he was so proud of her. 

He brushed his hand across her cheek and felt her tremble. She looked up at him for the briefest moment and he knew she was trying to apologize. He shook his head and mouthed to her that she was fine. She rested her forehead against his lips. He could sense that she was trying to relax. At first it seemed every bump startled her but then he noticed she was slowly calming. He could just make out her lips moving as if she was repeating some mantra.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her. Had she been traumatized by something? Was this part of her mental illness? He wished he knew better how to help her. He’d never in his life, met someone like her. When he looked at her, even now on the train as she struggled, he didn’t see damaged goods. He saw someone amazing, someone intelligent and funny, beautiful and magical. Someone that just by being close to you could turn a grey day into an explosion of color. But she didn’t share herself with everyone. Only with people that made an effort. Since he’d met her, he was thankful he was one of the lucky ones.

He didn’t know where this relationship was going. He wanted it to last as long as possible. But in reality, today was the last session. Ben had already bought tickets for him to go to Chicago and meet with some modeling companies there. He’d be back of course, but who knew when? He hoped they could keep in touch. He wished she could go with him. But he’d never ask her to give up something she was so good at to follow him around to who knew where. Whatever lay ahead, he was going to savor every second he had with her. 

The train slowed and then stopped. The computerized voice announced they’d arrived in the Soho district. He stood up, planning to just carry her, but she was on her feet too quickly. She didn’t seem so nervous this time. Either something distracted her or she knew they were getting out of this situation and that was enough for a boost of courage. It was her that pulled him along this time. She still hung close to him, weaving through the crowd deliberately missing as many people as possible. He was feeling a little like he was tied to a runaway horse, but he kept pace with her; taking one step to her three. Finally, they emerged on the surface and she let go of him taking a deep breath. Then she spun around in fascination; taking in all the sights and sounds of New York. He wondered why they bothered her less up here. Maybe she was just claustrophobic. 

She kept pointing things out excitedly, but he could only watch her. He’d lived in this city for years, but never really saw it. The wonder in her expression made the whole place feel brand new. She took his hand and led him down the street, looking in shop windows and admiring the sights. They found a neat little eclectic building and he saw her frame her hands and knew what was coming. He pulled the camera out ready to hand her when she turned around. She laughed in surprise and took it from him, along with the bag and pushed him over in front of it. After quickly posing him, she backed up to take the picture. 

They were on the move again. Down another street they found a men’s shop that she apparently liked the look of the displays in the windows and dragged him inside. He wasn’t so sure of the styles, but who was he to refuse? The shopkeeper gave them a judgmental look and asked if he could help them, but she’d already headed towards some racks pulling things out for him to try on. He smiled to himself and told the sales person they were fine. 

Ahsoka came back with an armful of clothes and excitement in her eyes. Anakin laughed and followed her to the fitting rooms in the back. She shoved the garments in his arms and held the curtain open for him.

After he hung up all the clothes so he could look and see what she’d picked out, he said, “I’m not sure I know how to put these things together.” He heard her giggle outside.

“Usually you want a shirt with a pair of pants!” 

“No kidding?” He said popping his head out the curtain and making a face at her. “I always thought you wore two pants or two shirts!” She stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed and disappeared behind the curtain again. “Clothes are complicated!”

He poked his face out again with a pair of pants on his head and stuck one leg out that was through the sleeve of a shirt. She couldn’t stand it and pushed him inside, fighting the curtain until she was in there with him. She burst out laughing when she saw the crazy getup he’d put together. She went to try and pull the shirt off his leg but he pretended to fight her for it. They ended up wrestling until one of them banged back against the wall. He heard the sales dude clear his throat outside and ask if he could help them.

“Nope, all good. Just technical difficulties!” Anakin responded and Ahsoka opened her mouth to say something but he put his hand over it. To his surprise she licked it. “Agh!” He cried out pulling it away. Her eyes mischievous. She pushed him down on the little seat, taking advantage of the distraction. She leaned in close and kissed him hard on the lips. He pulled her closer so she was straddling him. But she smacked his hand away and dropped to her knees in front of him, pulling off the shirt that he’d jammed his leg into just to make her laugh. It took some effort for her to get it off. 

She pulled hard falling backwards and he watched her head disappear outside the curtain. But she laid there for a moment wheezing and then threw the shirt, with surprising accuracy at his face. It hit him so hard it knocked the pants off his head and now he was laughing. She sat back up wrapping the curtain around her face. She stared at him for a moment before dissolving into another fit of giggles. He wished he could capture her laughter in a jar and keep it forever. 

When she finally stood up, she handed him different pieces of clothes and tapped her foot while she waited for him to put them on. He pouted at her then put the shirt on backwards. She rolled her eyes at him. “You know it goes the other way, right?” She asked.

“Why so snippy? We’re just having fun!” He tried his best to whine. She stared at him for a moment and he wondered if the games were over, but then he saw her mouth twitch like she was trying not to smile. He had her now. “Hey Snips! What do you get when you cross a cow with a trampoline?”

She raised her eyebrow at him. “What?”

“A milkshake!” That did it. At first, she tried so hard to keep a straight face, but then she burst out laughing and fell forward into his arms. He squeezed her and licked the side of her face and she giggled louder. She punched him in the chest. 

When they finally finished laughing, he pulled her close as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t like being touched.” She said, he felt like he should let her go. “But… when you touch me… everything feels okay. Like… the world is in alignment.” He looked down at the top of her head, wondering what it must be like. She made it sound like she was walking around off axis or something. How did she see it? He’d known only life and color since he met her. What did he look like to her?

“You taught me how to see myself differently. Show me what you see.” He breathed.

“It’s a scary place.” She shivered.

“I want to understand.” He replied gently. She sat back and looked up at him. She hesitated. Was she ready to share it?

“Close your eyes.” She whispered. He obeyed. “Imagine standing in a dark room. You can’t see, but you know you’re not alone. Everywhere you turn it’s like the shadows are going to leap out at you or swallow you whole. There’s a lot of noise, its loud, but you can’t understand any of it. You can feel things rushing past you, but you can’t see them. The only thing you can do is count, something that occupies your brain so the darkness doesn’t consume you. You concentrate on that task, it becomes your sole focus. So, when someone touches you, it startles you out of the only thing that was keeping you sane. And it starts to feel like the darkness closes in again.”

He could feel her fear just imagining what she was describing. He held his breath waiting for her to go on. 

“At first, you were like a distinct shape emerging from the darkness. But then you showed me your pain, and I knew you weren’t like the rest of it. You slowly became lighter and lighter, until when I’m next to you, I feel like the shadows can’t hurt me. And since you’re a light, I can see you when you reach out. So, it doesn’t scare me. When you’re around… I don’t have to count.” He opened his eyes and saw that she’d dropped her head, ashamed. He tipped her chin back so he could look into her eyes. She searched his just as much as he searched hers. He traced the wing pattern on her cheek with his thumb. He didn’t know how to comfort her. He didn’t know what to say. So, he kept stroking her cheek, hoping that his fingers would speak for him. 

“You were counting… on the train?” He asked.

“Yes.” 

“Even though I was with you?” 

“Sometimes… I can’t help it.” She whispered anxiously. As though he’d be offended.

“Ahsoka…” he breathed. He wanted to promise her the world. He wanted to promise he’d always be there. But he couldn’t. Because he didn’t know if he would be. “No matter what… I’ll leave my light with you. Sometimes… it might not be enough. But that’s okay. Because you’re brave. It’s time for you to be the light. Use my light to make yourself stronger. Don’t just hide in it.” He wasn’t sure if what he said made sense. He wasn’t even sure if what he said was possible. But he sure hoped so. 

At first, he thought she was going to argue, but then she nodded. He knew intuitively that she’d known from the beginning whatever this was between them might not last. And yet still, she’d opened herself up to him. She was prepared to let him go, even after everything they shared. He felt a catch in his throat. He thought her fearless, but it bothered him to know she would let him walk away so easily when the time came. He didn’t want to let her go. Not in the least. But he wasn’t in a position to promise her anything. He’d had no idea that a photography session would change everything he wanted. If Ben knew that… well… he’d probably lecture him for days. 

But after everything his agent had done for him over the years, practically raising him after his mother died. He owed it to him to see this career through. And a chance encounter with the perfect girl… certainly wasn’t part of the agenda. 

He stood up slowly and pulled the shirt off, putting it back on the right way. She handed him a pair of jeans wondering how she’d just known what would fit him since none of these were in sizes he thought he could wear. But then he remembered how she’d measured him that first day. Maybe it was another vision thing. She could just see what would work, like in her photographs. The jeans fit perfectly, somehow, he wasn’t surprised. She rolled up the bottoms to just above his ankles. It wasn’t how he’d normally wear jeans but he just went with it. Then she handed him a grey beanie, helping him position it on his head just so. And then the last piece were the converse. 

He studied the look in the mirror. It wasn’t bad. He wasn’t sure if it was his style or not, but he felt good in the outfit. She pulled the camera from the bag and took a picture in the mirror of the two of them. He realized that the only reason this outfit looked good was because she was in the picture too. She completed the look. He smiled sadly to himself. 

He put his arm around her and they stared at their reflections in the mirror. His chest felt tight. She reached her arm around his back and leaned into him. “Let’s not say goodbye until we have to.” She whispered. He pulled himself together and nodded. “So, do you like the outfit?” she asked him to try to break the heaviness that had fallen around them. 

“I do.” He said. “It’s not something I would’ve picked out. But it just proves you know better than me.” She playfully punched him and he was finally able to put a smile back on his face. She handed him a pair of dark jeans and a button up plaid shirt to try on. He changed into the new outfit and she rolled up his sleeves a few inches above his wrists. Then gave him some leather bracelets and a watch to put on, along with a pair of brown boots. When he looked in the mirror this time he smiled and jokingly said, “I need to grow a beard!” she laughed and rubbed his face, brushing his hair back and to the side. 

“Yeah,” she said tipping her head to the side. “I like your peach fuzz though.” He leaned forward and rubbed his stubbled chin against her cheek. She giggled.

“Like this?”

“You feel like a cactus!” she pushed him away, eyes sparkling. 

“Is there a meaning behind your tattoo?” he asked tracing the white marks down her forehead and around her eyes. 

“It means seeing and living with clarity, ascension and wisdom.” She replied. “Have you ever heard of a fulcrum?”

“That’s the thing in the middle of a lever, right?” he answered rubbing his chin.

“That’s one part of the definition. But it’s something that plays a central role in a situation.” She said. “It’s a reminder to me to always let clarity, growth and wisdom be my center.”

“I like it.” He said and she smiled at him. “Those are good things to remember, but don’t forget joy and passion too.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but instead she just nodded. “Come on,” he said. “I think two outfits is plenty for now. Let’s get out of this store!” Her eyes widened like she just now remembered she was working. 

They walked a couple of blocks to 5th Ave and East 33rd street where she took a picture of him under the one-way street signs by the entrance to the Little Italy district. Then they wandered through China town, which she absolutely adored. They later found Washington street where she took several pictures of him in front of the Manhattan bridge. A few blocks away they found some brownstones that she loved the look of. One in particular was covered almost completely in ivy, while the one next to it had nothing. She posed him there in the middle of the two.

They turned down Catherine St. and headed towards the waterfront, walking in a comfortable silence. But before they made it there, the sky opened up with a torrent of rain and they ran to find cover under the awning of a nearby building. Ahsoka put the camera away so it didn’t get wet and then huddled under his jean jacket. 

“How long do you think the rain will last?” She asked.

“Looks like a thunderstorm is brewing. I think we should call it a day. My apartment is not far, we could go there.” He replied.

She didn’t agree immediately and he worried that he’d overstepped some invisible line. But then she smiled and said, “okay, but I want to go that way first!” And pointed at the waterfront. 

“There’s no cover that way!” He complained, but she grinned at him so he sighed and went chasing after her down the street. “What’s this way?” He asked finally catching up to her where she stopped in front of a chain link fence. The rain had already soaked through his shirt and he shivered. He was surprised she wasn’t cold in that flimsy romper.

“Flowers.” She said, taking off her sweater and throwing it at him and then climbed the fence. 

“The sign says ‘no trespassing!’” He called after her. 

“So keep watch!” She snipped and then jumped down on the other side. 

“I’d rather not get arrested.” He said.

She weaved her fingers through the fence and looked up at him mischievously, strands of her vividly colored hair plastered in pretty patterns around her face and neck. The rain dripped down her skin and off her eyelashes onto her cheeks. Her top stuck to her skin revealing every curve of her body. He sucked in a breath. How was she so beautiful?

“Are they going to arrest me for picking flowers?” She asked, pressing her full lips through one of the diamond shape holes. He leaned down and met them. 

“No,” he breathed at last. “But they probably will for trespassing.” She gave him a sultry look, blinking up through the rain. 

“Better be a good guard then!” She laughed. Then she turned her back to him and ran down the embankment towards the wildflowers. He rolled his eyes and turned to face the street, knowing he looked conspicuous standing there with bags of clothes and the camera bag looped over his arms. But the street they were on was deserted at the moment. 

Satisfied that they were alone for the time being, he turned to watch her. She was laughing and twirling as the rain fell on her, flowers in her hand, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. He pulled out his phone and snapped a couple pictures. He remembered the way the glitter had fallen around her the night before. The feel of her skin, the way she radiated from within. He suddenly wasn’t so chilly anymore. 

He forgot for a while that he was supposed to keep watch, she was mesmerizing. Everything about her was bright and colorful and exciting. It was refreshing. With her around, he didn’t mind standing in the rain or the way his clothes clung to his skin. He could forget the pain, the heartache, the fear… for that matter… he could forget the world. If they had forever, would it always feel like this?

She picked the flowers she wanted and came back to the fence. “Aren’t they beautiful?” He nodded, but he wasn’t looking at the flowers. She started climbing. At the top she shouted, “think fast!” And dropped into his arms. He staggered in surprise but had managed to catch her anyways.

“You had a lot of faith I’d catch you!” He exclaimed after regaining control of his breathing.

“I knew you would.” She giggled and then gave him a big, sloppy wet kiss on the cheek. He grimaced.

“Can we get out of the rain now?” He asked. She nodded and he put her down. Handed her back her sweater and they walked the ten blocks to his apartment. She talked about the flowers and their different meanings. She complained about the way people looked at weeds. She went on about how strong and powerful and persistent they were. And by the end of it, he was sure he’d never look at a flower or a weed the same way again.

When they finally made it to his apartment they were soaked through. He might as well have jumped into a swimming pool fully clothed. His jeans were starting to chafe and he was ready for some dry clothes. He unlocked the door and let her inside. His place wasn’t much to look at. It was a small one bedroom, barely 400 square feet. It had an okay view of the city, but until his career took off he couldn’t afford much furniture. The only thing real homey about it was his cat, Artoo, who met them at the door. 

“Hey buddy,” he greeted him like usual. Artoo was white with a few black spots. He had long hair and bright blue eyes. Kind of like Ahsoka, actually. He dropped the bags on the kitchen counter, gave her a glass to put her flowers in since he didn’t have a vase and went into the bathroom to get a towel. Then he gave her a spare shirt and some shorts for her to change into and disappeared into the bathroom. 

He stripped off his clothes, dried himself and put a pair of pajama pants on. He’d forgotten to grab another shirt for himself. When he came back out he saw Ahsoka sitting cross legged on the floor petting Artoo who had curled up in her lap. He leaned against the door frame and watched her in awe. She seemed so at peace, and of course his cat, was enjoying every minute of it. The t-shirt he’d given her was much too big and fell off one shoulder exposing her skin. She was so effortlessly sexy. 

She looked up at him smiling so big her eyes sparkled. “I think he likes me!” She said excitedly, rubbing Artoo between the ears. The cat tipped his head back into her hand. 

“You’re lucky, he doesn’t like anyone.” Anakin replied with a smirk. “Not even me sometimes.”

She giggled. Somehow it didn’t surprise him in the least that his finicky cat was already smitten with her. Maybe they finally had some common ground. “Why’d you name him Artoo?” She asked, “it sounds like a robot.”

“I know,” he smiled. “But he doesn’t meow, he meeps, and it reminds me of a robot toy I had as a kid, so it seemed fitting.” 

“Where’d you get him?”

“Ben gave him to me after my mother died. I guess he’d picked him up from someone else’s cat who had kittens. But then he found out he was allergic.” He watched her wrinkle her nose at the mention of his agent. They’d definitely gotten off on the wrong foot. Ben was a good guy. He could be pushy and annoying sometimes, but he genuinely cared what happened to Anakin. He used to be a model himself, so he knew the ins and outs of the business better than most. He knew when to throw his weight around, and when to walk away. But opportunities weren’t coming around like they’d hoped, which was why they’d finally sought to get him a portfolio. Anakin hadn’t really wanted to be a model, but Ben was convinced he had what it takes. Since he didn’t know what else to do or how to get into acting, he’d just gone along with the plan.

That was until he met Ahsoka. She made him want to chase his dreams, not just muddle through life. “Are you hungry?” He asked her. “I could order us a pizza.”

“That sounds good!” She exclaimed. 

The pizza came and after they ate, they curled up on the sofa and watched a movie. Part way through she laid down with her head in his lap. He brushed his fingers through her long hair repeatedly. Artoo curled up above them on the back of the couch and purred. He wished tonight could last forever. They’d only known each other for three days, but it already felt like years. He loved how comfortable he felt with her. She made him feel okay. Like he didn’t have to be anything else. They’d bared their souls to each other, they both had pain and baggage, but when he was with her it was bearable. It was even happy. He wasn’t afraid, he could eat, he could leave his scar uncovered; he could just be himself. 

When she rolled back at the end of the movie and gazed up at him, he had the strongest urge to call Ben and tell him to cancel everything, he wasn’t going anywhere. She smiled at him and he returned it. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. She petted Artoo and he beeped for her and she giggled. He was certain in that instant that his apartment would always be haunted by her laughter. 

She sat up and wrapped her arms around his cat, resting her cheek on his soft fur. He was jealous of Artoo for a moment, he could kick himself for how ridiculous he felt. 

He reached for the remote and clicked off the tv and then got up and put his Ross Copperman vinyl on the record player. When Stop the Sun came on he reached out pulling her to her feet. They danced slowly around the room, in front of the couch. He’d twirl her and then dip. She’d throw her head back, laughing. He could only watch her, loving every inch of her. The way his shirt hung off her shoulder, the boxer shorts that you could hardly see under it. Her long legs, her beautiful chocolate skin. The way her facial tattoo drew you in to her sparkling blue eyes that were brighter than a thousand stars. Her blue and white hair that fell effortlessly down her back in waves. 

He spun her again and pulled her close, singing the song softly in her ear. She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily, rocking with him to the music like it was written for them, and them alone. They moved in harmony, like two halves of a whole. When he dipped her this time, he scooped her off her feet and twirled around. She giggled, face aglow and he leaned forward to meet her bronze lips. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling herself closer to him, responding with depth and hunger. 

He carried her to the bedroom and set her gently on the bed. Then he picked up his guitar and sat at the head and played her his favorite song. She watched him intensely, a smile frozen across her face. Then she got up, disappeared out the door and returned a moment later with the camera. 

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, losing himself in the music. He wanted to take the camera out of her hands and make love to her. But he didn’t want to ruin the softness of the moment. He felt the bed move next to him and he looked over to see that she’d crawled in with him. 

He stopped playing and rested his arms on his guitar. The smooth wood made his heart ache as he thought about his mother. It had been hers. The most valuable thing she’d owned. Yet another piece of himself he rarely shared, but wanted to with her. “You have a beautiful voice.” She whispered.

“Thank you. My mother liked to sing, so she taught me how.” 

“You can sing, dance, act…” she started, “so why are you trying to be a model? There’s so many other things, better suited to your talents than letting people look at your body.” She blushed suddenly. “Not that your body is bad to look at.” He laughed and put the guitar to the side. 

“I should ask you the same question!” He replied. “I mean, you’re a fantastic photographer, but is that what you really want in life?”

“I don’t know,” she replied darkly. “It might be all I can be.”

“Don’t say that!” He said, reaching to touch her cheek. “You can be anything you set your mind to.”

“You don’t know what it’s like for someone like me.” She rolled away from him, burying her face in her arms. 

“Maybe I don’t know what it’s like for you.” He said softly. “But I know what you’re like. And you can do anything. I really believe that.”

She rolled back and sat up, looking at him intensely. “Why?”

“Because when we were on the subway, you were scared, but you got through it. When we were wandering through the city, you forgot all about being afraid. And when you climbed the fence and danced in the rain, there was no more fear.” He answered carefully. “Every step we took today, made you braver. And if you can do that, you can do anything.”

“What about you?” She asked, tipping her head to the side.

“I know all about being afraid.” He said. “When my mom died, I had nothing. The man that had tried to get us out of the abusive situation was killed in a car crash weeks later. Ben, who’d been under his tutelage, and I became close. He did whatever he could to raise me. I owe him everything. But in a business that’s centered around your looks, where you’re judged on a daily basis, you never really stop being afraid.” 

“Why does he make you hide who you are?” She asked curiously.

“He thinks it’s best for getting me the opportunities I need to get out there. Models are supposed to be clean so that it’s the designer or the product that shines. In a lot of ways, we’re a blank canvas, and they’re the master painter. If we show marks that make us an individual, their paintings lose value.” 

Ahsoka sat forward and put her hands on his face. The way she moved them around made him think she was seeing him with her fingers. “You are the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen.” She said, kissing him on the lips. “And if they can’t sell me the person in the outfit, I don’t want the outfit.” 

He wasn’t convinced she fully understood the way it worked, but he appreciated her words anyway. When he’d modeled for people before, he’d felt like nothing but a tool, no better than the plastic mannequin in the store. But when he’d modeled for her, it felt like he had a chance to tell the world that he was a living, breathing being. One that had a past and memories and feelings. He suddenly wondered why he wanted to be an actor. It was as if he was constantly pursuing roles in which he didn’t have to or get to be himself. 

He laid back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. She curled into his arms and he pulled her close. Maybe he was the one that was damaged. Maybe they were all damaged. 

He awoke awhile later. Ahsoka had removed the t-shirt and was laying there with her back to him. He traced his fingers down her back and she moaned softly. Artoo came in and jumped up, settling himself in the small of her back. He pet him absentmindedly and murmured, “you’re a lot hairier than I remember.”

He heard her giggle and Artoo meeped in protest at her movement. But that only made her laugh harder. His cat glowered at him and leapt off her and stalked away into the living room. Now he was laughing too. She rolled over and looked at him. The city lights coming in from the window made her eyes glow. 

“I confess, I haven’t known you for long, but I’ve yet to see anything wrong with you.” He breathed. She looked down nervously. “What was your diagnosis?”

She hesitated. “Will you still be interested if I tell you?”

“There is nothing you could claim to have that could make me love you less.”

“I was diagnosed with Autism.” She whispered. “My parents didn’t want me after that. They made it sound like the school would help me and they’d be back for me. I waited and waited and waited, but they never came back.” Anakin pulled her close so her cheek rested on his chest. She didn’t cry though. He was certain she’d already cried for them. Now she was just numb about it. He didn’t know much about Autism, but he was mad at her parents for not seeing her value. If he ever had a chance to track them down, he’d give them a piece of his mind. He had no idea where tomorrow would take him, but he knew he’d be back for her, someday. He hoped she knew that too.


	5. Chapter 5

Anakin leaned on the balcony railing that overlooked the city. New York was a bustle of activity that never seemed to stop. He loosened his bow tie and took a heavy breath. 

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had everything in the world he’d always wanted. But he felt hollow. Ahsoka’s pictures had brought him dozens of job opportunities, to the point that several agencies were fighting over him. The money was rolling in, he’d been able to move to a penthouse apartment in a ritzier neighborhood. Photos of him were all over town, on billboards, on screens in Times Square, in shop windows. He’d made the big time.

“There you are!” Came Padmé’s voice as she joined him on the balcony. “What a great party!” She said a little breathlessly, leaning back against the railing. He pecked her softly on the lips and nodded in agreement. He didn’t want her to know how he really felt because it meant a lot to her. Padmé Amidala was a world renowned fashion designer. Everybody adored her. She was brilliant, gorgeous, charismatic, creative… the list went on. She lived for events like these. What was it, the fourteenth one this month? He’d lost track. 

“How about we leave all these people and drive out of town to do some stargazing?” He murmured. 

She flashed him a sad smile and shook her head. Not a hair moved out of place. “That sounds romantic,” she said patting his arm. He recognized her tone; she was simply humoring him. The truth was, none of the things he wanted to do interested her. “But the party is just getting started, and there’s lots of people I still need to meet." He grimaced internally. Just getting started? They’d already been there three hours! "Are you coming in?” She asked. 

“I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.” She didn’t argue. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her sashay back inside; smile plastered on her lips as she emphatically greeted another big name in the business. He didn’t envy her. Padmé was beautiful; with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. She was feminine and classy. Rich, but charitable. That’s partly why there were so many parties. She had a bleeding heart and he appreciated that about her. 

But it would turn out, the lifestyle he’d always craved, meant nothing to him.

Hours later he opened the door to his apartment and threw his tux jacket to the side across the closest chair. Artoo trotted to the door beeping at him. “Hey buddy,” he said sitting down on the couch and absentmindedly petted the cat that had jumped into his lap. He turned on the tv but stared blankly at it. After a few minutes of not absorbing anything, he clicked it off and sat quietly in the dark room, listening to Artoo purr in his lap. 

Restless, he pushed the cat off and went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Then went outside in the night air and lit up a cigarette. He looked across the city wondering how Ahsoka was doing. He wanted so badly to call her, but she hated talking on the phone. She didn’t have her own, so he couldn’t even text her. He kept hoping she’d make an exception for him, but every time he thought about it it was late at night. She was probably there, he’d figured out early on that Plo had let her stay there because she didn’t like going back to the school. 

It had been eight months since he’d last seen her, but he’d thought about her every day and dreamt about her nearly every night. Even when Padmé was sleeping next to him. It all had happened so fast, he’d planned to keep in touch, he really had. He just hoped she was happy. Because he sure wasn’t. 

After snuffing out the cigarette in the ashtray, he went back inside. Thinking about Ahsoka made his heart ache. Who knew a whirlwind romance would make him pine for someone even after all this time? He set his empty beer bottle on the counter and went to his desk. He pulled out the flash drive she’d given him and plugged it into his laptop. 

As he clicked through the pictures of that magical night, he felt a weight land on his chest. He smiled at her dancing in the glitter. Burned for her as he flipped through the intimate ones. He loved Padmé, he really did. She was kind and good, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Ben had encouraged their relationship when she’d started showing interest in him. He’d told him it could take him farther. So he’d started courting her. At first, it was amazing that someone in her position would want anything to do with him. They went on fancy dates, they talked a lot; well… she did most of the talking, not that he minded necessarily. He enjoyed seeing her passion, he sincerely celebrated her successes, they definitely had chemistry in the bedroom… but… 

He sighed and put the flash drive away. Was there something wrong with her or was there something wrong with him? Him, definitely him. Padmé was perfect in every way. But she wasn’t what he wanted anymore.

He picked up his mother’s guitar and wandered back outside. In the cool night air, he put his feet up and plucked out You’re Home by Satellites & Sirens, while softly singing. Tears were falling by the end of it. He laid back and stared at the sky, letting himself cry out months of emptiness and longing. “I miss you, mom.” He whispered to the dark and cloudy sky. “I know what I should do, but it’s not what my heart wants." 

His phone startled him awake in the morning. He’d fallen asleep outside with the guitar on his chest. He blinked to clear his eyes and looked at his watch while reaching for the phone. 

"Hey hun,” he said, seeing that it was Padmé calling. He listened to her, but had trouble focusing on what she was saying. His brain was still fuzzy and his heart still heavy. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as she went on about how great the party was the night before. After about twenty minutes, his mind was made up. “Padmé.” He tried to gently interrupt her but she just kept going. “Padmé!” He asserted louder. She stopped talking finally. “Can we meet for coffee? There’s something I need to tell you.” He expected her to say she couldn’t, she was always busy after all, but she seemed to recognize a change in his tone and agreed. He pictured her pretty features drawn in concern and he felt guilty.

Half hour later he sat at a booth in the coffee shop closest to her office. He’d already ordered for both of them and was waiting for her to arrive. His thumbs played with the cup in front of him, he was too anxious to take a sip. He looked up when she entered, she was stunning as she slipped into the seat across from him. He swallowed hard.

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

“I love you.” He said, strained. It was true… that wasn’t what hurt. 

"I love you too.“ She replied without even hesitating. 

He tried to smile, but he couldn’t. "These last few months have been amazing.” His throat constricted and he stumbled over words as he struggled to breathe. “But you deserve so much better. I can’t give you my whole heart.” He said at last, fighting to keep going. “I’m in love with someone else. My relationship with her was before I met you, but I never got over her. I’m sorry.” He said lowering his head, hating himself.

He watched her in his peripheral vision as he forced himself to swallow some of the now cold coffee. He could see her face screw up in a range of emotions. He wasn’t sure what he was going to get back. He hoped she wouldn’t cry, or yell… but he deserved both of those. Padmé was never at a loss for words, so he wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d stunned her silent. He felt on edge as the time dragged on in which she didn’t speak. 

"Okay.“ She said at last.

"Okay?” He asked surprised. Of all the reactions he’d expected, that wasn’t one of them.

"I think… I think I always knew.“ She said sadly. "I just didn’t want to believe it. You treated me so well, I pretended not to see the truth.” She stood up. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She turned to go.

"Padmé!“ He called, but she was already gone. Disappearing into the crowd of people walking down the street. He sighed. The coffee he’d bought her was still sitting across from him like a sad reminder of what he was missing. She hadn’t even touched it. He took another sip of his and let a tear roll down his cheek as he stared blankly out the window. 

He didn’t move off his couch for several hours. He’d ignored at least four phone calls from Ben and a dozen texts. The last one said he was coming over. Ben had a key, he didn’t care. 

He heard his agent let himself in but he didn’t move to greet him. "What’s the matter with you?” Ben asked, coming in with a flourish and dropping all his stuff on the kitchen island. “You missed two appointments and you’re late for the third!”

Anakin looked up at him blankly. “Padmé and I broke up.” He said emotionless.

"Oh.“ Ben stopped in his tracks. ”Oh…“ he said again with more understanding. He went to the fridge to get himself a beer, bringing one back for him. Anakin took it from him, but didn’t drink. "What happened?”

"I’m in love with Ahsoka.“ Anakin said finally.

"Who?” Ben asked surprised. He tried not to get angry that Ben didn’t remember her. Why would he? He wasn’t the one that shared three magical days with her. But logical or not, it annoyed him that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head, yet no one else seemed to care about her. He’d never told Ben about their relationship, though he’d wanted to countless times. “You’ve been so busy, when have you had time to meet some mystery girl?”

"She took my portfolio pictures.“ Anakin hoped that would be enough to jog his memory. 

"Wait! You fell in love with her? Anakin! That was three days!” Ben said, stroking his chin in an irritated manner. He really hated the way he’d emphasized the word ‘her’. Ben picked up his phone and frantically started typing on it.

"What are you doing?“ He asked him.

"Trying to find you a shrink! You’ve obviously gone crazy on me!” Ben exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’d throw away your entire future, all of this, for some no-name hussy you barely knew!" 

That did it. Anakin was on his feet. "She’s not a hussy! She’s amazing! And if you’d take your head out of your ass occasionally you’d realize that none of this makes me happy!" 

Ben stood up too, appalled. "I did all of this for you! I promised your mother I’d take care of you and I did! I worked my ass off for years to get you a life you’d never have otherwise, and you just want to throw it out the window? Forget this girl, Anakin. Call Padmé and make-up. I expect you back on your feet tomorrow!” Ben turned on his heels and left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. 

"Aaarggghhh!“ Anakin yelled, pressing his hands to his temples and falling back on the couch. Artoo peeked out around the corner now that Ben was gone and jumped up on the top of the couch and started hollering. "You too, huh?” Anakin asked his cat. “Am I crazy for missing her? For wanting her? Should I do what Ben said and just forget about her?” Artoo landed hard on his chest staring into his eyes and tipped his head to the side like he was trying to understand. Anakin patted him on the head, “you’re right.” He said. “My life sucks without her.”

He leapt up suddenly, knocking the beer Ben had given him over. He didn’t really care as it soaked into the rug. He threw on his shoes and a jacket and took off. 

He took a bus that dropped him a few blocks from Plo’s studio. He stopped at a flower stand looking over the colorful bouquets, smiling to himself for the first time in months. He wasn’t sure which ones to pick, they were all so beautiful. Though none of them were made of weeds, he chuckled, but then darkened as he remembered how mad he’d been when Ben had thrown out the flowers she’d picked that night. It didn’t matter to him that they’d been sitting dead in the cup for a month, when he looked at them they were as fresh and bright as when she’d picked them. But when Ben had helped him move, that was something he’d done without even asking Anakin first; he’d assumed they were garbage. And perhaps they were but…

"Can I help you?“ The stand owner asked.

"I’m just having trouble making up my mind, they’re all so beautiful.” Anakin replied.

The stranger smiled and went on about all the different kinds of flowers, pointing bouquets out along the way. Anakin stopped as he passed one in particular. It was a wildly vivid bouquet of a kind of flower he was unfamiliar with. But it was the smell that had captured his attention. They smelled like citrus. Memories of Ahsoka’s skin flashed through his brain, and the way her perfume had teased him mercilessly. 

"What are these?“ He asked pointing to the flowers that had captured his attention. 

"Those are Freesia,” the shop keeper replied. Anakin nodded his thanks and purchased that bouquet and then made the rest of his way to the studio. 

He questioned whether or not it made sense to bring her flowers, but then he thought at the very least, she deserved a thank you for taking the pictures that had catapulted him into success. But the closer he got, the more nervous he became. Would she remember him? Had she missed him? Had she moved on? Would she want to see him? Would everything be different? Had he done what Ben had claimed and thrown his future away for a crazy romantic idea?

He had to take several steadying breaths before finally pulling open the studio door and heading inside. 

"Anakin, my boy!“ Plo exclaimed coming around the corner to greet him. "I see your face everywhere I look, so I guess that portfolio did you good?” Anakin nodded but was looking around him wondering where Ahsoka was, she didn’t come out of the back room if she’d heard the studio owner say his name. Plo didn’t seem to notice that Anakin was distracted and kept chatting happily. He caught sight of someone moving around, but when they turned, it wasn’t her.

"Where’s Ahsoka?“ He interrupted Plo.

The change in him was instantaneous; his smile faded, his shoulders dropped, he looked away and shifted uncomfortably. Anakin felt a lump in his throat, please don’t tell me she’s dead. He prayed silently. 

"Bad business,” Plo said at last. “When I got back from taking photos for miss Amidala’s fashion line, there was a ton of equipment missing. I called the cops of course, but they never found evidence of who could have done it. Several witnesses claimed they saw her steal it, I didn’t believe them of course, but rumors were starting to spread and I… well, I had to let her go.”

"She’d never steal from you!“ Anakin replied indignant. "She’d never steal from anyone!” He’d dropped the flowers angrily without thinking. “You saw the pictures she took! She had all the skill in the world to make it, she wouldn’t put that on the line!”

"Yes she was very talented, it’s a shame. I was fond of her, but… my business comes first. I’m sorry.“ Plo responded, not sounding very sorry. "And the photographs she took of you did boost my reputation and brought in a lot more opportunities for me.”

Anakin furrowed his brow, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You took credit for her photos and threw her out? How dare you!" 

"Of course not! Well… Ben thought I’d photoshopped them and I just didn’t… correct him. His review of the pictures is what brought me a rush of business!” It took every ounce of willpower Anakin had to not smash something. 

"Where is she?“ He demanded. 

"I don’t know! She might be at the school unless she graduated by now. Other than that, I have no idea.”

Anakin stormed out of the studio in a seething rage. He could not believe it. He couldn’t believe that Plo could throw someone out whom he’d regarded as a daughter. He couldn’t believe that Ben had been a part of it. But worse, this had all happened that same week, meaning that for eight months he’d been flying high on the fame she helped him achieve and he’d been deluding himself that she was happy and safe this whole time. 

He ran the few blocks to the school but he had a feeling she wouldn’t be there. Of course they wouldn’t tell him anything. He wandered the streets for awhile and then finally sat down on a park bench and called Ben.

They argued for a few minutes but then he played the one card he had, “You better help me find her, because I refuse to work with any other photographer.” There was silence on the other end of the call. He had to look at his screen to make sure it hadn’t disconnected. 

"Where are you?“ Ben sighed at last. Anakin gave him his location. "I’ll be right there.” He sat numbly while he waited for his agent to find him. He could hardly process everything that had happened. But more than anything, he was terrified for Ahsoka. He hoped wherever she was, she was okay. He was going to burn the city down to find her, if he had to. 

"Why is this girl so important to you?“ Ben asked quietly, joining him on the bench half hour later. 

"I love her.” Anakin replied simply. “She makes me a better person. When she’s around, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t throw up after every meal… I can be myself because I’m not afraid.” He felt Ben cringe next to him.

"After just three days, she could do all that? That’s amazing.“ Ben whispered. "I’ve been with you for years and I couldn’t do it for you.” He said the last part so softly Anakin had barely heard him. 

"She is amazing. You’ll understand when you meet her. Those pictures she took, for my portfolio? They weren’t photoshopped. She captured all of that, often in a single take. She has a gift, Ben. And it will benefit all of us to find her.“ 

"So where do we start?” He asked as though conceding defeat. 

"There’s something you need to know first.“ Anakin replied. He went on to tell Ben that Ahsoka had autism so that if and when they found her, he knew how to approach her. Ben listened carefully and nodded. He seemed to finally be hearing the passion Anakin felt when it came to her, because he didn’t argue anymore. 

—

The darkness was all consuming. She was trying to fight it as much as she could, but no matter how hard she tried, it would spring right back as though it were made of rubber. She looked down the street ahead of her. There he was again. Teasing, tantalizingly close. He wasn’t real, but she didn’t care. He was still a light in the darkness and she moved to it like a moth to a flame. The sounds around her were loud and disjointed. It made her ears buzz. She strained to hear his voice. “I’m here.” He called to her. She knew it was a lie, but she fell for it anyways. Her hand reached to touch his face, to feel his skin, but it was hard and cold. She leaned her face against him, willing him to wrap his arms around her. Needing him to shine for her again. But his hands never moved. His fingers never ran through her hair. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She sat down on the sidewalk in front of him. Rocking back and forth, her arms around her knees and started counting.

Someone was yelling at her. She brought her hands to her ears. The darkness reached at her and she drew back stumbling to her feet as she was torn from him again. Another turn, another block, another street; another illusion. But this one was moving. She blinked a few times. It continued to come, brighter and brighter until it illuminated everything around her. She looked up at him blankly. The only thing keeping her sane was now taunting her. He reached towards her, but she backed away. It can’t be real. It can’t be. It’s never real.

—

“Ahsoka!” he called to her. She didn’t recognize him, she didn’t react. Had it been that long? She pulled back and he stopped. She fell to her knees muttering to herself. He lowered himself down too. She kept blinking. He could see her fear. She didn’t feel safe. He wasn’t making her feel safe. How had he before?

His chest tightened. His heart had leapt in his chest the moment he’d spotted her, but it was sinking again. Why had he left her behind? Why did it take him so long to come back? He suddenly remembered the makeup he was wearing. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped it off. At first it didn’t seem to make a difference. But then she sat forward watching him closely. He looked at her with all the pain he’d felt of missing her. And then he opened his arms. She threw herself into them. He pulled her tightly to him, kissing her on the forehead and then burying his face in her short, dark hair. His shirt felt wet, he knew she was crying so he just held her, rubbing her back and shoulders; whispering over and over again how sorry he was. She shook and trembled, he could feel her chest rise and fall against him in labored breathing.

He looked up over her and saw that Ben had come around the corner at the end of the block and was slowly making his way towards them. He looked concerned, watching her with pity as he approached. He swallowed hard, the pain visible in his eyes as he looked up at his friend. To his surprise though, when Ben got close enough, he too sat down on the sidewalk with them. At first, he shifted awkwardly, but then he let himself relax, though he made a point of glaring at anyone that gave them a funny look.

Ahsoka was filthy, it was clear she’d been living on the street for awhile, probably since Plo had thrown her out. He burned with guilt as he imagined what that must have been like for anyone, let alone someone with autism that didn’t do well with lots noise and people. No safe place to lay down her head, no one to support her. He hated that he’d taken so long to come back for her. He’d assumed she’d be alright. He never could have imagined she wouldn’t be. But that thought did nothing to assuage the guilt. He promised her in his embrace, that he would never let her go again. If she’d have him, he’d be there. Always.

A few minutes after Ben had sat down, Ahsoka finally released him. She then turned, started just a little to see Ben there too. But he smiled at her. She glanced back at Anakin and he nodded encouragingly at her. She reached out and took Ben’s hand, squeezing it, looking into his eyes. He looked a little unsure of what to do, but before he figured it out, she threw her arms around his neck this time. He fell back off his heels in surprise, but then he hugged her back, sharing a look at Anakin that said, ‘okay, you were right.’ Anakin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips.

He stood up and offered his hand to both of them. She took it first after letting Ben go. Then Ben reached out muttering something about being too old for this. But it was in a joking way and Anakin laughed and helped him up. Ahsoka still looked a little dazed, but she was functioning again, as though it was slowly coming back to her. Once they were all on their feet again, he put his arm around her shoulders protectively and they headed back to his new apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

They hadn’t talked much on the way back to his place. She didn’t cling to him like he expected and Ben, who earlier had been mad about this girl, now hovered protectively on her other side. People gave them odd looks, but he didn’t care. The only thing he was worried about was if she’d be okay. She seemed numb to her surroundings as if she was moving on autopilot. He made a mental note to do some research on autism so he could better understand what this trauma might have done to her. At the very least, he was glad she trusted him. He made silent promises all the way back that he’d take care of her.

When they reached his door, he unlocked it and let them in. She stood in the entry looking around blankly. None of it would be familiar to her, it was all new. Maybe that was what agitated him when he came home too. He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. He dug through his drawers to find something she could wear. He smiled as he found the boxer shorts and t-shirt she’d worn before. He hadn’t worn them himself since then because he liked that they smelled like her. 

He walked her into the bathroom and turned on the rain shower. Adjusting the temperature for her. He gestured to it, but she didn’t move. She looked up at him expressionless. He touched her cheek softly and she leaned into his hand and closed her eyes. He took her head in both hands and kissed her softly on the forehead. He slid his hands down to her shoulders, down her arms and to the hem of her sweater. She lifted her arms above her head so he could pull it off her. He then undid the button of her jeans, unzipped them and they fell around her ankles. He held her steady as she stepped out of them. 

When she was naked in front of him, he pulled her into his arms. She held him, trembling slightly. He then guided her into the shower. At first she just stood there, the water flowing over her body. Then she turned to look at him, her fingers on the glass door. He shouldn’t have been so excited, because this wasn’t an invite for sex. She didn’t seem to want to be alone. He didn’t blame her, she spent the last 7-8 months alone. He stripped and stepped in with her, poured soap on a washcloth and started massaging it. She looked up at him and closed her eyes, so he washed her face first. As he worked his way around her body, slowly and gently, he started seeing bruises on her arms and legs. A few on her abdomen. As he went along, he’d kiss them softly. He didn’t know what had happened to her, but his heart ached for her. She just stood there, letting him touch her. She didn’t help, but she also didn’t fight it. He did feel her tense a couple times when he touched certain bruises. But was it the bruise or the memory that hurt?

He wanted to ask her what happened, but right now all he cared about was making her feel safe again. Once that was established, then maybe he could learn what she’d been through. If she’d been in a talkative mood though, he would have encouraged her, but since he’d found her again, she hadn’t spoken a word aloud. Her body had spoken volumes, along with her eyes. And he was thankful that she’d taught him her language, because he could now care for her while she was afraid to open her lips. Otherwise they might still be standing on the street trying to determine the best course of action.

He stood up and poured shampoo into his hands then massaged it into her scalp. She moaned softly, at least something felt good. He took his time working it through her hair and then finally rinsed it out. He turned off the water and stepped out. He grabbed two towels from the warmer and wrapped one around her. Then he quickly dried himself off and got dressed. When he was done, he helped her dry off and into the clothes he’d pulled out for her. 

Then he had her sit on the step to the tub while he sat on the edge above and he brushed her hair. It was pretty tangled at first so it took awhile to make progress, but he tried his hardest to be careful not to pull it as he went. Thankfully it was short. Padmé had long brown hair that he’d helped brush a couple of times and it felt like it took forever because she was particular about how he did it. Actually, she never liked him brushing her hair, and part way through would tell him to leave so she could finish. Then she’d come out an hour later with her hair in some fancy style. In his mind, always glued to her head with product. Ahsoka seemed to enjoy him doing hers, because she had relaxed with her arms over each of his knees. 

When he was done brushing it, she leaned back into him and looked up at his face. He kissed her on her forehead and she closed her eyes. He ran his fingers down her arms and held her hands. It was such a strangely intimate moment; sitting in the bathroom like that. It was then that he fully realized how much he’d missed her presence. To be able to sit there in comfortable silence, to feel like everything would be okay. To not need to plan for things or go anywhere. To just listen to two heartbeats as they echoed around the room.

He’d never expected to meet someone like her. He’d definitely never expected to fall in love with her. He’d never considered what a relationship should be like. And now, he couldn’t ever imagine his life without her. They hardly knew each other; conventionally anyways. But… did length of time matter when you find someone you’re so comfortable with? He’d never want to rush her. He didn’t know if she felt the same way, or even if she wanted a relationship with him, or anyone for that matter. All he knew was that when she was here, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. And when she wasn’t here, well, he wanted her to be.

"Come on.“ He said at last. "Let’s get you something to eat, you must be hungry.” She nodded and stood up. They made their way out to the kitchen and were surprised to find Ben cooking away. 

"Ah there you are!“ He said, "I made you a grilled cheese sandwich and my specialty, tomato basil soup!” He smiled at her and pushed the dishes across the island in front of a seat. 

"Thank you!“ She said, sitting down on the stool and digging in. Ben grinned at her, flipped a towel over his shoulder and watched her take a bite. 

"I suppose I should’ve asked if you have any dietary restrictions, but I thought this would be safe enough, unless you’re lactose intolerant.” He commented concerned.

"I’m not,“ she said. "And no I don’t. Thank you.” Ben looked relieved and then pushed another plate over for Anakin. He sat down next to Ahsoka and started eating too. “This is really good.” She said, sighing softly.

"I’m glad you like it.“ Ben replied warmly, taking a bite of his own sandwich. Anakin smiled to himself. It was almost hard to believe that just the other day he was arguing with Ben about her. And now his agent was doting on her like she was the child he never had. He guessed finding her on the streets rocked him harder than he cared to admit, especially after Anakin had told him about her autism. He wasn’t treating her weirdly at least, that was a plus. But he did seem to like her more than even he’d expected. "Would you like some tea?” Ben offered her. 

"Yes please.“ She replied. Anakin was happy to hear her voice again. He’d been worried about how quiet she’d been. Even though he liked their comfortable silences, he was afraid of the depth of the trauma. But now that they’d gotten her cleaned up and some food into her, she was starting to perk up. He was relieved. It meant that she could recover from anything that had happened. Ben chatted away, entertaining them as they ate. She giggled at one of his stories and Anakin couldn’t help but breathe it in. God, he’d missed her laughter.

"You know,” Ben said leaning on the counter and looking at her thoughtfully. “You really remind me of someone I haven’t thought about in a long time.” His tone drifted nostalgic as memories seemed to wash through him. Anakin was surprised by the change in him. Whoever it was, must have left quite an impression, because Ben had a smile on his lips and a faraway look.

Ahsoka reached across the island and squeezed his hand, startling him out of his reverie. “You should call her.” Ben looked at her surprised, and then shook his head sadly.

"I wouldn’t know what to say.“ He glanced at Anakin, "it’s been at least fifteen years.”

"But you still love her.“ Ahsoka whispered knowingly. Anakin raised an eyebrow at Ben. It was the one part of his past he never talked about. He put on a good show, but he’d always seen how lonely he was. He’d often wondered if he was the reason Ben didn’t date. He put an obscene amount of effort into taking care of him, which he was grateful for, of course. He’d just always wondered what he’d sacrificed to do so.

Ben shifted uncomfortably, and then softened a little. "Perhaps.” He responded softly. “But it was a long time ago. People change." 

Silence fell over the room. Ahsoka looked as though she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Ben and Anakin went about cleaning up the kitchen and then Ben said farewell and went home for the night. Artoo had padded out of the bedroom after Ben left and she’d picked him up, cradling him in her arms, petting him gently. He loved every second of it and was purring loudly. Anakin smirked at his cat.

"You fickle thing.” He said, rubbing him on the head on his way past to clean up the bathroom. When he returned, Ahsoka was outside leaning on the railing. “Are you okay?” He asked, joining her.

She didn’t answer immediately, but then in her usual wistful manner, she said, “I am now.” Anakin melted, and put his arm around her shoulders. They stood there for a long time, staring at the city below. 

When they finally went to bed, he wrapped his arms around her protectively and pulled her so her back was pressed up against his front. He kissed her jaw, her neck and the top of her shoulder. He nuzzled his face into her short dark hair. He missed the wild stripes she’d had before but it looked as though her hair had started growing out so she’d just chopped off any of the colored part. Her naturally curly hair was pretty too, though it felt like a muted version of herself. At least after he’d had a glimpse of who she liked to be. He made a mental note to buy her new soap, he didn’t like that she smelled like Padmé now. It messed with his head. Artoo jumped on the bed and curled up in front of her purring. He felt her move her arm to stroke him. He could tell she relaxed as she did so. He was jealous that his cat seemed to make her feel more comfortable than he did. But then again, if you’re out on the street and there’s terrifying people around you all the time, he supposed an animal would seem less threatening in the beginning.


End file.
